fan_elune: (sean/franco)
[personal profile] fan_elune
Title: The gay's everywhere
Fandom: Rescue Me
Disclaimer: They sure aren't mine. I'll give all the credit he deserves to Denis Leary, and all those other guys who are why this show exists the way it does and whose names I have no clue about.
Rating: R
Warning: this is very much slash.
Summary: Sean is worried, Franco reassures him. And they decide to go have a beer. (I hate summaries. So sue me.)
Author's notes: yep, that's it, I've gone and done it. Started writing for Rescue Me. Which is a very stupid thing to do, writing about a show when you've only seen the beginning of the second season, and consequently have very little background story on any of the characters. But I couldn't help myself, Sean just had to bring it up again after all that talk about Mike being gay (poor lil Mike, so very misunderstood). Point is? It's my first try at the RM fandom. Please let me know how I did! If anybody actually reads this.
Author's notes 2: I completely blame [livejournal.com profile] khohen1 for my writing this fic, which turned out (half against my will) to be as much of a slash fic as I've ever written. But she completely won me over to Sean/Franco. What can I say? I'm a sucker for well-written slash. Also, kHo, thanks so much for the beta job.
Author's notes 3: kHo, now that U've caught up on your LJ - I'm sorry your birthday sucked so badly, and this is completely and totally for you. (Not like it would have been written if it weren't for you.)


The gay's everywhere


"Seriously," Sean insisted as Franco and he walked into the empty locker room. "It's like the gay's everywhere now!"

"The gay?"

"Yeah!" Sean took his shirt off and threw it into his locker. "You know. There are like, all those TV shows, like it used to just be Will & Grace bullshit, but now they're doing all-gay shows on cable, with, like, sex and shit."

"Yeah, I heard. Isn't there one with chicks?"

"Yeah," Sean answered with a grin. "That one's cool, lesbians are hot."

"No shit."

"But the one with guys?" And Sean pulled a face.

Franco frowned at him. "You watched it?"

"Well, no, I – er – caught a trailer. It was enough, you know, for me to know that..." And he pulled the same face, wrinkling his nose and sticking his tongue out a little, mouth twisted into a disgusted pout. "Anyway, my point is the gay's everywhere! Did you know that, like, Keanu Reeves said he was bisexual? Neo cannot be gay. And even here! There was Sully, and now there's Mike. You think he really is gay?"

"Nah, I'm just rilin' him up." Franco leaned against the open door of his locker with an amused smile. "Well, maybe a little bit," he amended.

"See?" Sean ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head in dismay. "Even Mike. I shoulda known when he said he didn't like skinny chicks."

"He said that? Figures," Franco remarked as he turned back to his stuff. "Why's it bother you so much anyway?"

"Doesn't it bother you?"

Franco shrugged as he slid on a clean t-shirt. "'S long as they don't get near me."

"Sully got near you."

"It was a massage, man. I got over it. Getting laid helped. Why don't you?"

"Why don't I what?"

"Get over it."

"The – the meadow was a great place to be, man."

"So you're worried 'cause you liked it."

"Well, you know... hands are hands. It's not like I was thinking it was a guy massaging me during it, I was just, like, feeling."

"I'll give him that, he was good with his hands," Franco agreed. "They usually are."

"So, I liked it, but it doesn't mean I'm gay, right?"

"The gay isn't passed on by touch, Sean."

Relief swept over his features. "Yeah. I knew that. Good."

Franco smiled again, as if amused by Sean, but the latter decided to just ignore that. He always amused Franco anyway, and it didn't matter. Because in the end, Franco was Franco and he was the only one Sean could talk to about stuff like that. The amusement wasn't disrespectful or anything, it was just there, and maybe it was one of the reasons they got on so well. In a completely non-gay way, a concerned part of his mind saw fit to point out. In a completely non-gay way, the rest of Sean readily agreed.

"So, you still seeing that nurse of yours?"

"Hmm?" Franco looked up at him as he shouldered his backpack. "Yeah. Well, sorta. Not so much that I woulda minded a piece of that buddhist chick."

"Got dinner plans tomorrow night," Sean retorted with a gloating smile. "And I have a feeling I'll be getting lucky."

"So you got no plans for tonight? Been a while since we just had a beer together."

"What about Keela?"

"Come and have a beer at my place, that way we can watch over her."

Sean looked at Franco suspiciously. "Why don't you call your nurse?"

"I could use a chick-free evening," Franco answered. "They gonna turn me crazy some day."

Sean grinned. "What, she the jealous type?"

"She the 'you're just with me for sex' type."

"Which you are."

"Which I am," Franco admitted with a grin. "You should see her ass. Anyway, you coming then?"

"Sure. I'll have to cancel the date I had with my TV, but she's used to it."

Franco paused and stared at Sean. "Your TV's a she?"

"It was just for the sake of the image!" Sean protested.

Franco pulled a 'yeah, right' face. "Just tell me you didn't go and get 'her' a name."

"Of course not!" Sean protested, and wondered whether he hadn't overdone it slightly.

Franco just clapped his hand on his shoulder and chuckled. "Whatever, man. Let's go."

Sean watched him take a few steps, then jogged up to him and fell in stride. The evening was looking up.


The one beer had turned into a pizza and five or six beers – Sean had lost count – and he was starting to think that he'd crash on Franco's couch rather than go home tonight. He said so out loud, for which Franco saluted him with a raised beer bottle.

"It's all yours, man."

Sean grinned, feeling more content than he had in a long while. They'd had pizza, they hadn't run out of beer, they'd discussed chicks, sports, and chicks some more, what more could he want? "We should do this more often."

"You sound like a chick now," Franco remarked with a chuckle as he got to his feet. "Be right back."

They'd been sitting on the floor on each side of the coffee table, and Sean hoisted himself up onto the couch before leaning forward to grab his beer. He took a swig, leaned back in the comfortable couch and grinned again. Nights like these, Sean found that life was good. Life was really fucking good.

"Da?"

The pitty-patter of tiny feet on tiles, and Sean found himself looking at the adorable little Keela. He blinked at her, right as she blinked her sleepy chocolate eyes at him, and the next second he'd somehow gotten his body to comply with what he wanted it to do, and he was next to her and gathering her into his arms. "Dad's in the bathroom," he told her in a whisper.

She peered at him, then smiled. He smiled back.


Sean backed out of Keela's room and closed the door softly before realising that Franco was standing right there, watching him with a gleam of approval in his eyes. "Hey," he whispered.

"Yo," Franco replied before he led the way back towards the couch.

They sank into it side by side and Sean followed Franco's example by getting cosy with his feet up on the coffee table.

"You're good with Keela," Franco remarked after a few seconds' silence. "I'll have to remember you're an alternative babysitter to Laura."

"Don't remember it too often, man," Sean countered as he estimated the effort he'd have to produce if he wanted to grab his beer bottle from its station right beside his feet. "I love your daughter, but I don't wanna be stuck here watching her 'cause her daddy's off fucking his nurse or something."

"What are friends for?" Franco mock-protested as he leaned forward and grabbed both their beer bottles.

"Thanks," Sean said as he was given his. "That coffee table seemed like too fucking far away."

"You know you swear much more when you're drunk?" Franco remarked with a grin.

"I'm not drunk! I'm just a bit... inebritated. Briated," he managed on the second try. "And that's a hard word to say even when you're sober!"

"I'm sure it is. I'm surprised you even know that word, sober or not..."

"Fuck you, man."

Franco smirked and looked at him, but said nothing, and Sean ran a self-conscious hand through his hair. Franco's eyes latched onto it at the gesture. "You let it grow back 'cause of the monkey thing?"

"Yeah, that was like, horrible," Sean answered. "Why didn't you tell me when I got it cut?"

"You complainin' the gay's everywhere and you want us to go discuss your hairdo? You got a weird logic, monkey boy." Franco took a swig of his beer, then smirked at Sean in a way that couldn't bode well for him. "You know, maybe you're a bit bisexual after all."

"Fuck you," Sean retorted with a nervous chuckle. "I just meant you could have said I looked like a fucking ape..."

"That's not what I mean," Franco dismissed his remark with a small wave of the hand that held the bottle. "I was thinking about the meadow again."

Sean got his feet off the table and turned to Franco, holding up his hands to interrupt him. "No way, man. I ain't gay."

"I didn't say gay, I said bisexual."

"That's just another word for gay."

"No it ain't." Franco took another swig, then saw fit to explain. "When you're bisexual you still like chicks, right? You just like guys too. You don't change sexuality, you like, expand it or something."

"Well my sexuality's not expanding," Sean replied decisively. "My sexuality's very much established and totally unwavering, trust me."

Franco shrugged. "I'm just sayin', if you liked the meadow that much..." He was still smirking as his lips closed around the beer bottle, and he downed the rest of it. "Come on, Sean, it's me, Franco. You can tell me. You never found a guy hot?"

"No!" Sean answered heatedly, feeling more and more ill-at-ease with the turn the conversation was taking. He paused. "Have you?"

Franco shrugged. "I ain't gonna tell you if you ain't gonna tell me."

"Is that a yes?" Sean asked, and Franco made a non-committal face, then kept looking expectantly at Sean. Okay, so maybe tonight was now looking down, Sean decided, because his level of unease kept rising. "Maybe..." he finally admitted, and downed the rest of his beer expecting the laughter to come.

It didn't. Franco was looking at him with that damn smirk of his, and his eyes were shining with amusement still, but there was no laughter, no mockery. Just a question. "Who?"

"No, now you tell me," Sean reminded him. "I just put my ass on the line here."

"Sure I have," Franco answered, and leaned back into the couch, breaking eye contact. Sean felt both relieved and a bit disappointed, but at the same time Franco's answer made him feel a bit better about his own. "That don't mean shit though. Some people think dogs are beautiful, but they're not zoophiles."

"How do you know then?" Sean asked, and wondered what had pushed him to do so. "How do you know if you're...?"

"Bisexual," Franco finished for him, then leaned over, his face so close to his that Sean got frightened for a moment, he even got fucking terrified at the dancing look in his dark eyes, but all Franco wanted was to take his empty beer bottle from him. "You know when you got urges." Franco got up and gathered a couple more empty bottles from the coffee table as he explained. "Desire. If you want men. If you ever want to kiss one, touch one..."

"That's disgusting, man," Sean said, and he watched as Franco unhurriedly headed into the kitchen. His heartbeat was slowing down some and he wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans.

"Not everybody agrees," Franco noted as he fished a couple more beers from the fridge. "You know what you said earlier, about the massage? Hands are hands."

And their fingers brushed as Franco handed him the beer. Sean opened it and gulped some of the liquid down, welcoming the freshness down his throat. Things were seriously getting out of hand here, no pun intended, and the only sure thing was that beer helped. Beer always helped.

"So where do you plan on takin', er, Heather is it?" Franco asked, and Sean realised they were once again sitting side by side on the couch, and it seemed like nothing had happened. Which made Sean wonder if anything had, or if he was just sick or something for imagining stuff.

"She likes Thai food, she said," he answered. "There's one just down my place."

"You really think you'll be gettin' lucky then."

"I hope so, man. It's been too long. Like, three weeks. I got needs."

"Don't we all."

"So, you know, this – bisexual – thing." Sean didn't know why he was bringing it up again when Franco had clearly moved on, but the way the conversation had ended didn't sit right with him. He still had questions. "Can you like, be it for your whole life and not know?"

"I guess," Franco answered nonchalantly. "Like, if you like chicks and you don't question things, I don't see why you'd realise."

"Wouldn't that be weird, though? Like not knowing a part of yourself."

Franco shrugged. "Why are we even talkin' about this?" he asked, turning his head to look at Sean.

"No reason," he quickly answered, feeling like he was being put to the test.

Franco drank some more beer, then put the bottle down on the table and turned fully to Sean. "Is there something you wanna tell me?"

"No!"

"Are you wondering if you're bisexual?"

"No! I like chicks, man! I love chicks!"

"That just means you ain't gay, Sean. Not that you ain't bi." Franco's tone was that of a patient schoolteacher repeating the same thing over and over again. It made Sean feel inadequate, like he wasn't up to the task, whatever the task was. He hated that feeling. "Come on, let's make sure."

It took a few seconds for Sean to be able to react to that, past the shock of realisation. "Let's what?"

"Make sure."

"How?"

"Kiss me."

"No way!"

Franco rolled his eyes, moved closer to Sean on the couch. "Come on, don't be a pussy."

But Sean backed away. "Franco!"

He put his hand on Sean's neck, and it wasn't a girl's delicate fingers but Franco's strong grip. "Look, we're buddies right?" At Sean's hesitant nod, Franco continued, and slightly moved his fingers against his nape. "I'm just gonna do this for you, bro. So you can be sure. We ain't gonna tell anyone. Just between buds. Yeah?"

Sean stared, and tried to ignore the light touches of Franco's fingers on his nape, suddenly much more like a chick's. He realised he was gripping his beer bottle tight, and he took a swig before setting it down on the table. The gesture momentarily dislodged Franco's hand, but it rested on his shoulder when he sat back up. "Yeah," he exhaled, and pressed his hands on his thighs.

There was a hint of a smirk hidden behind Franco's lips as they moved closer, but his eyes seemed dead serious, and darker than usual as Sean blocked out the light of the lamp behind himself and its reflection died out in them. They closed at the same time as Franco's lips brushed Sean's, and it was the weirdest thing.

Sean stood still at the first brush, paralysed by the knowledge that those lips were a guy's, that the face so close to his was Franco's. They brushed against his again and the knowledge faded a little, pushed away by the well-known tingling sensation that had started with Franco's fingers on his nape, the very fingers that were sliding from his shoulder to his neck.

"Relax," Franco whispered, and his eyes were open again. "You can't be sure if you don't try for real."

This time it was more than a brush, it was lips closing firmly on his, and then it was the scrape of teeth on his bottom lip and Sean gasped, a tiny little gasp that parted his lips slightly, and before he knew what was going on Franco and he were kissing. Just lips, but it was more than enough, those full lips and his playing together, with a hint of tongue or teeth now and then, and it was just plain weird.

"So?" Franco whispered, and Sean heard him breathe just as heavily as he was.

He didn't know what to answer. He didn't want to answer, because it would put into words things he would rather not talk about. So he kept quiet, and he tried to look into Franco's eyes but really he was staring at his lips, which hid another smirk.

"Alright then," Franco commented. "You're not sure yet..."

It wasn't a question, and Sean wasn't left time to answer. They were kissing again, and this time there was tongue. It was both so familiar and so foreign, familiar in the sensations it stirred, foreign in the act itself. Franco didn't kiss like a girl, he was invasive and he took the lead, and since Sean didn't kiss like a girl either it meant their teeth clashed and their tongues battled rather than stroked each other, and Franco's hands pulled Sean nearer just as his were keeping him away.

Sean had gotten hard during that first kiss but he'd done his best to try and ignore it, because it was more than a simple hard-on and he didn't want to get into that, no more than he'd wanted to answer Franco's question. Except that when Franco's hand came to touch it through his jeans, he couldn't really keep ignoring it.

He scrambled off the couch in such a panic that he stumbled and almost fell, but some sort of miracle – some god or other must have taken pity on him and decided he'd been humiliated enough for one night – kept him upright.

"What the hell?" The only reason he didn't shout was Keela, because he really did feel like shouting, he felt like screaming his lungs out because buddies just didn't go that far, not when all they wanted was to help the other one make sure.

Franco had sat back in the couch and he looked bored, maybe, except there was something in the line of his mouth that suggested bitterness rather than boredom, and he'd never had trouble meeting Sean's eyes when he was bored. Franco scratched his neck where it wasn't scarred, and his voice was lathered with something dark that Sean couldn't quite name. "You're hard, Sean."

"I'm –" Okay, so denying it would be pretty pointless since Franco'd just felt him up. "So what? I was imagining you were a chick."

"Yeah?" Franco asked offhandedly, and stood up. "Anyway, couch is yours. I'm off to bed."

Sean watched him walk away towards the bedroom, and the words passed his lips before he could stop them. "Is that it?"

Franco stopped, and Sean had never really paid attention to the line of his wide shoulders before. Then he turned around, and he spoke softly, just loud enough that Sean might hear, not enough to wake Keela up. "Is what it, Sean? We just made sure. You were imagining a chick."

Sean wanted to ask what right Franco had to actually believe that big fat lie when he told it to him, but he still had a tiny bit of self-control, so he just watched him walk into his bedroom and close the door. He went and dropped on the couch where they had kissed, and he sat there in silence and stared off into space.

He didn't think he'd ever had such a world-shattering experience as that kiss. Well, so maybe the world hadn't shattered, but his world had definitely spun on its axis. Because Franco had gotten him hard.

He started when something hit him in the face, grabbed the blanket and looked up at Franco with a frown.

"Wouldn't wantcha to be cold," he said neutrally, and headed back for his room.

"Franc'?" Sean asked, and he was surprised that his voice betrayed none of his inner confusion.

"Good night, Sean," was Franco's only answer, and he didn't even stop on his way to his room.

Sean stayed there with the blanket on his lap and ran his hands over the wool. It was an old yellow thing, probably dug up from a closet once in a blue moon, more scratchy than it was soft. He wondered where Franco had gotten it, how long he'd had it, whether he put such a dusty old thing on top of Keela's covers when she was cold in winter. Then he stood up, methodically folded the blanket, put it down on the couch, and headed for Franco's room.

He knocked on the door right as he pushed it open, and found Franco sitting on the edge of his bed in his boxers, taking some pills. Sean leaned against the doorframe and told himself that if he looked at Franco's body now, it was for a purely professional assessment, something to do with working out and why Heather had seemed more interested by Franco than Sean at first. And he couldn't help not saying what he had wanted to say. His tone might have been overly casual, but he didn't think he ever fooled Franco anyway. "I didn't know you were still on those."

Franco put the bottle of pills on his bedside table, and only then met Sean's gaze. "Pain's not fading I guess." It was said just as casually as Sean had uttered his own remark, which tipped him off for this very reason. He heard the same uneasiness in Franco's voice that he had tried to wipe from his. "What do you want, Sean?"

The question took him off guard, and the truth slipped past his lips before he could stop it. "I dunno."

"Yeah," Franco exhaled sharply, and swung his legs onto the bed, under his covers, "well it's late, and I've got an early shift tomorrow." He turned off his bedside lamp. "'Night, Sean."

But Sean stayed where he was, and the light fell from the living room and projected his shadow on the floor of Franco's room. It was long, and it didn't entirely look like himself, but that was fine because he didn't entirely feel like himself.

He heard Franco sigh loudly, shift, and then his voice. "I'm serious, Sean." The way he kept saying his name at the end of each sentence had told Sean that way before Franco said it out loud, but it didn't hurt to have a confirmation.

"Yeah," was all he could answer. "Yeah, so am I." It didn't make much sense, but it felt true so he said it.

"You can be a right pain in the ass, man," came Franco's voice, and then Sean saw him get up and step into the light, tread on his shadow as he made his way over. He looked annoyed, but there was still tension in his stance as he stopped in front of him. "What do you want?"

"I dunno," he repeated.

And when Franco leaned forward to kiss him, Sean noticed his hesitation and he leaned forward in response, and their lips met because they both wanted it. It was still fucking weird, but at least they now both knew where they stood, maybe not in the great scheme of things or even in their own sexuality, but they both knew that they felt it, and wanted it. Sean thought maybe that had been Franco's problem, that he hadn't made it clear, that he'd lied about imagining a chick.

There was no lie in the way Sean's hands tentatively came to rest in Franco's back, his broad, muscular bare back that was nothing like a chick's. No lie in the way he angled his head one second to allow Franco better access, then moved it the next to take over the kiss. No lie in their simultaneous gasps when they pressed their bodies and their hard-ons together, through Sean's jeans and Franco's boxers.

"D'you know now?" Franco asked.

Sean couldn't help a nervous smile. "No man, I fuckin' don't."

But when Franco's hand cupped him through his jeans he didn't move away, he gasped and stumbled but Franco's other hand held him in place. And Franco chuckled, and Sean could feel the low sound shiver its way up or down his spine, because he'd sorta lost directions by then. And Franco was rubbing him through his jeans, and kissing him again, and Sean kissed him back with abandon. There was no lie in this, it was the raw truth of the matter.

Then Franco bit on his lower lip, almost painfully, and Sean repressed an "ow!" that would have sounded very childish.

"I wouldn't mind if you returned the favour," Franco pointed out, and this time Sean had no trouble at all looking at his dark, dark eyes, and he felt intimidated and vulnerable, like when he was caught not having done his homework or something.

"I... maybe we should close the door? Keela?"

Franco glanced away, then pulled Sean inside and closed the door, plunging them into darkness. There was a ray of light filtering down on the floor, coming from the living room, but Sean felt better pretending they were in the dark. Franco grabbed his t-shirt and pulled him forward into another kiss, and it felt like no kiss Sean had ever shared with a chick, it felt like Franco wanted to devour him, and it felt fucking brilliant. Then Franco pushed Sean's shirt off his shoulders, and pulled his t-shirt over his head, and Sean had to ask.

"Franc', what are we doing?"

Franco paused, and for a second the only noises in the bedroom were, once again, the sound of their laboured breaths. "We getting each other off, man." He paused, and Sean could guess at his smile in the half-light his eyes were getting used to. "Don't tell me you never jerked yourself off."

"Yeah, but –"

"Same diff," Franco cut in, and he was unbuckling Sean's belt.

Fuck, Sean thought.

He put his hands on Franco's shoulders, felt their strength, and let them slide along his powerful arms, then back up. Franco's skin was sort of smooth, like a chick's, and Sean was suddenly seized by the urge to run a finger around one of his nipples. Franco's breath hitched and Sean smiled as the hands working on his belt stilled. He kept teasing Franco's nipple as he kissed him, and this time he was in control through and through, until Franco suddenly grabbed his hands and backed him up against the closed door.

The move was quick and rough, and Sean's head banged against the wood. Again he held back an "ow!" of protest more than pain, mostly because Franco was rubbing his body against him, holding his wrists up against the door on each side of his head, and hearing him breathe so close to his ear on top of everything else was just fucking maddening.

"Bed," Sean managed to suggest between a couple of gasps.

"I like you here," Franco replied, and rolled his hips to give them some more of that electrifying friction.

Sean tugged on his arms, but Franco held him securely in place. And then he couldn't believe what passed his lips, and felt himself blushing right after he said the words. "Don't you want me to have use of my hands?" Because he was saying that to Franco, and it didn't seem right, but it felt like the thing to say.

And, Sean realised with just a bit of fright, it didn't seem right mostly because he meant every word of it, because he was desperate to use his hands.

Franco chuckled and let go of Sean's wrists. "All things considered..."

But before Sean could take advantage of his newfound freedom, Franco made short work of his belt and pushed his jeans down, and it was the usual awkward moment where he had to step out of the stupid pants and pull his socks off. Then they were standing in front of each other in boxers, horny and hard, and what little light filtered in under the door seemed like way more than enough. Sean felt even more vulnerable now that he looked at Franco like this, now that he saw his strength and his beauty and how desirable he was. It scared him both that he could see that, and that there was no such beauty in himself.

Franco stepped forward and Sean kissed him to try and shed his feeling of inadequacy, and it worked. As he kissed Franco and let his hands wander on his body, he managed to forget about himself, to lose himself in the sensations. He had been more excited than this – like that time with those Swedish twins, that had been a fucking revelation – but it had never been like this.

It had never been a guy, and it had never been Franco.

The boxers were soon discarded, too, and there were grunts and moans that filled the expectant silence. And then they both lay on their backs on Franco's bed, catching their breaths, but of course Franco caught his before Sean even though they both stayed silent.

"See?" Sean said at last. "The gay's everywhere." And he chuckled.

Except Franco didn't. Franco rose on one of his elbows and looked at Sean, and he sounded dead serious. "I ain't gay."

"Yeah, yeah," Sean agreed immediately. "We went over the bisexual thing, I got it."

"Sean, let's not make this into a thing."

He frowned. "How do you mean?"

"We ain't gonna date and shit. Because we're buds, and I don't date guys. Tonight was nothing, yeah? We're buds, not fags. Shit happens."

"Hand jobs happen," Sean remarked, and he couldn't keep the amusement out of his voice. Franco had recovered before him, and Sean found it incredibly amusing that for once Franco would be the one bringing up issues Sean would have agonised over, if he had been left time enough to get back down from his orgasm first. But now there was no need to agonise over anything, because Franco was making things clear and Sean didn't mind. He didn't mind at all. He chose the easy way out any day. "Don't worry, I don't wanna turn this into a thing either. I got a date with a hot panic Buddhist tomorrow." He paused. "Want me to go sleep on the couch? I wouldn't mind."

Franco hesitated, then shook his head. "Nah, stay. It doesn't matter, I'll be up before Keela and I'm kicking you out when we're going."

"Works for me," Sean answered drowsily. "Sleep now?"

"Yeah, sleep now. I'm gonna need it, you bastard. I'm blaming you if I die in a fire tomorrow 'cause I didn't get enough rest."

"Who seduced who?"

"Who wouldn't let it go?"

"Fine," Sean admitted. "If you die, I'll take the blame." He paused, and thought of Franco's scar and of Tommy, and his heart hammered once, hard, against his chest. "Don't, though. Die."

And he could hear weakness in those words, the way he whispered them because saying them too loudly would be asking for it to happen, or revealing too much. And perhaps Franco heard it too, because Sean felt the light touch of fingers trail down his cheek. Or maybe it was just wishful thinking.

Franco's whispered answer wasn't; it was low, but it was real. "Not gonna."

"Good." He turned over and stretched before settling down for the night. Good thing Franco had a double bed, else he was sure he'd have gotten the couch. "Bed's so much more comfy than the couch. I love your bed."

"If you snore you're outta here. And stay on your side, too."

Sean didn't answer; he was too busy falling fast asleep.

When Franco woke up just a few very short hours later, he found Sean's arm draped over his torso, and Sean's knee was touching the side of his thigh. At least he hadn't snored, he thought to himself, or not loud enough that he would have noticed. He glanced at his alarm clock, saw that it would ring in just six minutes, looked at the bottle of pills beside it and didn't move.

And he spent those six minutes pretending he was still asleep, eyes closed and breathing steady, lying still in bed, letting himself be held by the unsuspecting Sean.

Because that night had been a one-time thing, but the night wasn't completely over yet and he might as well make the most of it.


~~ the end ~~
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